


A Sign of Change

by epaynter



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e04 The Oolong Slayer, Gen, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epaynter/pseuds/epaynter
Summary: He had not wanted to like Detective Jacob Peralta. In fact, Jake had been the one that Kevin was determined to keep a safe distance from.
Relationships: Kevin Cozner & Jake Peralta, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt
Comments: 10
Kudos: 263





	A Sign of Change

He had _not_ wanted to like Jacob Peralta.

In fact, Jake had been the one that Kevin was determined to keep a safe distance from after the events of Raymond’s birthday party and _even_ after the kind gesture of the ninety-ninth precinct in the form of a romantic dinner for two.

Perhaps, in hindsight, it was almost childish on his part to remain so rigidly opposed to him in the beginning. After Jake’s unwavering dedication to checking on the mental and emotional state of his husband, which lead to the discovery of what Raymond abhorrently tried to call a "light" stab wound in his torso, he still harboured a degree of reluctance for the young man.

 _It was illogical._ Jake had more than proven his loyalty to his husband, his starry-eyed admiration for Raymond was unparalleled to even the rest of the precinct, and yet somehow Kevin remained far more guarded with him than anyone else.

Several weeks before he left for France, this rigid opposition was called into question.

Raymond had been miserable since his transfer from the precinct to a public relations desk position. Gina accompanying him had been the only grounding force stopping him from a full-on spiral into agony, that Kevin was sure of.

It was a Tuesday night, he had dived into his research in the early evening. His office had a wide view of the campus which was covered in a fading warm film of light during dusk. The hours, undisrupted, had slipped by him without notice. He had become familiar with the sound of his cellular phone, _his husband_ , pulling him out of his academic reverie most evenings with a text message or a call.

Some people, he thinks, might consider that to be an overbearing act of love. He found it to be rather romantic. In turn, he often surprised his husband with the occasional call closer to midday.

At first, in earlier points of their- legally and otherwise- marriage, they rarely spoke during their respective work hours. Landlines made for uncomfortable professional situations such as overheard colleagues with crude remarks or pointed interrogations in regards to their personal lives. Societal ignorance made being in an openly homosexual relationship as intriguing to others as it was sinful. Granted, the two commonly went hand in hand. There was no stronger hate than self-hate and the homophobe to repressed homosexual ratio was a poetic example of it.

Before Raymond’s new command at the ninety-ninth precinct, they began to call each other infrequently. In truth, Raymond had been the one to initiate the habit as the inaction of his new desk-bound position had rendered him restless and desperate for stimulation. He would attempt to distract him with anything that came to mind. This had often lead to charged debates on a niche topic as Raymond’s brain was begging for use and Kevin was more than happy to accommodate him. An additional benefit to these conversations was the deep and familiar voice of his husband replaying in his thoughts comfortably throughout the afternoon.

_"L'importance historique de ce paragraphe bien connu par rapport au manuscrit récemment traduit est- do you want me to stop, Raymond? I’m not certain of how much monologuing you are looking for and I’ve already taken up fifteen minutes of your lunch hour."  
_

_"Please continue, Professor. I am enraptured."_

The ninety-ninth precinct and its unpredictability was the start of routine phone calls and check-ins whenever deemed necessary. Raymond’s captaincy was the return of his unpredictable hours from his time as a detective, unplanned overnights on the job, and work-oriented travelling all with the added responsibility being the commanding officer for an entire building. It was easy to get swept up in the work at hand, something of which they both have done in the past.

Some of which he was doing that Tuesday night until his cell beeped loudly with a glowing notification saying ‘Low Battery’ and the clock taunting him in large font above it. It was much past eight o’clock. He had meant to be home two hours ago and should have been walking Cheddar in that very moment. Nothing at all from Raymond.

" _Merde_ ," He swore and was already shuffling around for his briefcase.

He knew that Raymond was home when he arrived as his shoes were already neatly placed on their shoe rack. The time had nearly reached nine and Cheddar greeted him at the door. There were only two light sources pooling into the entryway as he removed his oxfords; one faintly cascading down the stairs and the other in the direction of the kitchen.

He leaned his briefcase gently against the staircase and walked to the kitchen.

His husband was unaware of his presence at first. Raymond was leaned back against the metal framework of their kitchen island stool. His broad shoulders were loosened in contrast to his proper posture. The warm light created dancing reflections on the island from the port glass nestled between his fingers. He was still dressed in uniform, however, his tie and blazer had been removed. Kevin could tell, based on the width of his dress shirt collar, that he had undone at least two buttons. He was breathtaking and distracting and, more importantly, unusually relaxed.

"Good evening, Raymond."

"Kevin," All of his attention had shifted from a beige folder resting on the marble countertop to Kevin in the doorway. His voice was an octave deeper from light inebriation. His eyes were bright as he cocked his head to the side and Kevin was almost undone right then and there, "I arrived home a little over an hour ago. I was going to call you but I lost myself in several densely packed pages of bureaucratic processes. How was your day?"

"It was fine. I started delving into various structural outlines for a future research project after my classes and, honestly, I lost track of time. I’m sorry if Cheddar has been particularly restless- I meant to walk him an hour ago," Kevin replied, "You seem more relaxed than usual. Might this be from the densely packed pages of bureaucratic processes that had you so distracted?"

Kevin teased him with a soft voice and a raised eyebrow. Raymond was already pouring him a glass of port. He recognized the significance of the bottle as he rounded the island to face him.

"These are transfer papers for my immediate return to the Nine-Nine."

_How?_

Kevin had meant to say at that moment. However, Raymond was smiling and it was distracting. The man was often rather distracting and the decades had yet to equip him with a defence against it. It was as vulnerable as it was hopeful and creased the corners of his eyes.

"How?" He managed to inquire after several seconds of shameless ogling. It was his husband, after all. He would _always_ ogle when the opportunity arose.

"Peralta."

It was at this exact moment that Kevin realized three obvious facts that had he had been too blinded by his own preexisting biases to accept as Raymond began a chronological list of the events that resulted in this outcome:

  1. Jacob Peralta was a good man and genuinely loved his husband. He had known this to be true by extension of Raymond but he hadn’t really felt it in earnest. He had been wary until this point, scrutiny in his every action. 
  2. Raymond, in turn, loved Jacob Peralta with an equal amount of intensity. It was clear for quite some time that he adored the young man, however, the bond that they had formed ran far deeper than Kevin had initially observed. 
  3. He did like Jacob Peralta, very much so, and there had been countless reasons to do so that he, out of rooted distrust, had refused to entertain. He had never been so aware of his folly until then. Kevin stood by his disdain of both his delight in popular culture and his eating habits, however. 



The glass of port was pressed against his lips as he listened to Raymond speak. He had been a professor for years and was not a stranger to reevaluation. Students had surprised him, even humbled him, plenty of times in the past.

"I was wrong."

The words tumbled out as soon as his husband had reached the conclusion of his tale. Kevin could tell that Raymond was, internally, attempting to connect this vague response to his recounted events without much success so Kevin continued, "about Detective Peralta. He is a good man and the ninety-ninth precinct upholds everything that I admire about you. I’m grateful for that."

Raymond reached out to him, fingers interlacing with his own, and his thumb brushed against Kevin’s knuckles.

"I know."

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished watching B99 in its entirety twice over the last month and I'm completely enamoured with it. 
> 
> This concept came from the fact that they display Kevin as having a bit of reluctance in connecting with Jake that goes beyond their lifestyle incompatibilities as Kevin is fairly closed off during The Wednesday Incident to an almost begrudging degree. While I do think that Safe House offers the most development in their relationship, I'm also fond of the idea that Kevin softened to him slowly over time.


End file.
